


Just a Smile

by OverMyFreckledBody



Series: Stuck with Me (Sometimes Quite Literally) [6]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (but everyone knows), (everyone), (which jean is keeping a seCRET), (wiggles eyebrows), Alternate Universe - X-Files Fusion, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, all of those characters, bc you know of course this bullshit would happen to them, this isnt based off any scene or episode, well maybe just the mood of psych and bones in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6967228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no reason to like little towns, not when you're just visititing for a case. Jean hates them.</p><p>But he hates the little smirks they send him when he looks at Bodt, just a little more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Achrya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/gifts).



> Acharya suggested fluff and pining while I was listing out ideas, so I pulled this one out of my disoriented idea basket. 
> 
> This is based off of nothing but the silliness of Psych, and thinking of how Booth would respond to a picture of him staring lovesick at Brennan in the early seasons would go. It went a lot better than how he would have reacted, of course.  
> And really, this came to me as I was listening to sad playlists, go figure.
> 
> [music](https://listenonrepeat.com/?v=-qYgOsi4md8#Rilo_Kiley_-_Science_vs._Romance) if you want, but it's the same for the other fluffy one bc I was listening to it again.

                There wasn’t any way Jean would have said yes on his own, but it seemed he didn’t have to; Bodt had said it for him, himself. He didn’t see a point to it and was just in general _wary_ of the idea, but Bodt didn’t seem to think there was an issue, and being the eager-to-please puppy he could be, he had said yes, so Jean found himself agreeing to something he didn’t actually say a word about.

 

                Apparently, they were going to pose for a picture. For no reason other than that they _looked cool_ and had _just the right “feel” to them_ for someone’s friend’s idea of a comic they were working on. From what Jean caught of the guy’s babbling, it was going to be similar to their own lives, but with a twist: the two, lovely FBI agents ended up falling in love.

 

                (The little punk had stared straight at Jean when he had said those words and it was at that very moment that he realized people might end up making their own implications up at the thought of two people coming out of the same hotel room.)

 

                (And maybe if they saw one of those two people looking at the other with too bright a grin than that of a typical “thank you for buying my coffee, _friend_ ” morning smile.)

 

                So the guy who’s name neither of them got the chance to hear, had asked that for them to pose. They would simply stand beside each other, tilted barely from each other’s spaces so it was almost as if they were going to stand back to back, with their guns out and up. They’d stare straight at the camera with serious expressions or whatever he wanted to tweak at the moment.

 

                Thankfully, Bodt was smart enough to make the deal that they could draw their characters however they wanted referencing that pose, but that they would need the original photo of it (and all its possible copies) given back to them. And, if they could, it would be cool to see a copy of how the finished drawing turned out. The camera man easily agreed before shooing them off to the place he wanted them to stand, just feet of where they had been talking.

 

                Jean had to admit, it was a nice, even if convenient, setting. Though it likely wouldn’t translate to the comic, he supposed that the picture of them standing in front of a little circle of trees and flowers, with the sun shining down on them and their shiny parts of their outfits, would be a nice one. He maybe wouldn’t mind it sitting on his desk, if he thought about it.

 

                As they shuffled into place, Jean glanced up, tilting his head up and towards him to hear Bodt murmur from the corner of his mouth, “At least we don’t have to smile. I know how hard that is for you to do without good prompting.”

 

                He had just started to open his mouth to respond to that, quite ready to fire back some kind of retort, when the flash of a camera caught him by surprise, gaze jerking forward to look at just what caused the light. That shock was nothing, however, compared to the realization of just what had happened when he heard the next word spoken, but not by Bodt.

 

                “Perfect.” And not by himself, either.

 

                They hadn’t gotten to see the end picture, because as they stepped from their positions, the mysterious man had thanked them with a wave of his camera, and promised that they would have their copies and photo by the time they left. It took a few seconds of blinking away his surprise and swallowing his nerves at just what that picture probably consisted of from his end, to finally put away his gun and realize that Bodt was already onto thinking of where they should head next.

 

                When Jean looked up at him, watching the way his mouth formed words and his made motions of which way some place could be or whatever else, he noticed that Bodt wasn’t looking back down at him and relief flooded through him. It was the first time that he was glad that Bodt was talking just to get through the case rather than anything else.

 

* * *

 

 

                A few days later, just as they were rearing the end of the case, the guy showed up again, at the coffee shop (same as before) they were sitting at, mulling over some details. He handed them each their own Manilla envelope with a smug grin before leaving. While Bodt opened his immediately, Jean took his time, took another sip, and thought about just how the guy knew where to find them.

 

                (The answer was actually simple – it was a little town, where everybody knew everybody. All he had to do was ask.)

 

                (Fuck little towns.)

 

                Bodt snapped him out of his thoughts with a little puff of amusement, and Jean looked over his cup with raised eyebrows to see Bodt holding up one of the concept art sheets. “Pretty good, isn’t it?” He asked, sending a look between the art and Jean’s face. He had to agree, it _was_ good.

 

                On it, were several sketches, some with color, some with not. They were of two people, a man and a woman, both FBI agents from the looks of their attire, and most of the poses were of them in action. The woman seemed to be the shorter of the two, with wavy hair that went down to about her shoulders and was the same shade on the top of Jean’s own. Her crescent eyes had a nice, pale tint to olive green, and were definite additions in each of the impish looks she gave to her partner. She seemed to be wearing heels in every pose (aside from one, where she was in her pajamas and stretching), which didn’t look practical, but he applauded her for being capable enough to run everywhere in them.

 

                The male had one of the dumbest looking haircuts Jean had ever seen. It was probably worse than Bodt’s own, really. It was dark, like Bodt’s, but straight and evenly chopped, and parts it seemed to part and almost… clump together. The underside of it was shaved all the way around, very short, and seemed to honestly make it look worse. His nose, unlike her small and rounded one, was long and curved, and his eyes were bigger, blue, and had a bit of different slant to them – the tips going upwards rather than just being slanted downwards from both the ins and outs like her own. He seemed very solemn, kind of grumpy, in every piece he wasn’t in moving too much in. In the rest, he seemed to get very excitable, angry, or downright flustered, depending on what was happening.

 

Expressive. That was a good quality.

 

He shot a look to Bodt as he set down his coffee and opened up his own envelope to find there were several sheets. Two were the sketches, the concepts, but one was the cover art draft. He plucked that one out and let his eyes run over it, taking in just how alike the pose was.

 

                The two characters were standing amoung rubble and she was standing on one of the rocks from the wreckage to appear taller next to her partner. They had their guns out and pointed to the sky, and their backs just barely facing each other, just like Jean and Bodt had posed. On the man’s face was his strict, determined look, the same that was in many of the sketches, and staring straight at the “camera” (the viewer?). The girl was… kind of staring at the camera. She was facing it, but out of the corner of her eye, she was staring at her partner, head barely lifted from the pose to look at him, as her teeth dug into her bottom lip.

 

                The look on her face wasn’t a smile, but almost concern so very different than the other pictures of her he had seen. There was obvious trust and love in her gaze, but Jean knew that it was an obviously toned down picture of what the mysterious camera man had captured.

 

                Just as he was thinking that, Bodt looked up from his own cover art with a bit of grin, something Jean knew would easily become teasing if he wasn’t careful. “Hey, Kirschtein, did you get the photo? It’s wasn’t in mine,” he waved his hand over the envelope before continuing on, “I wanna take a quick look at it.”

 

                When Jean only raised his eyebrows at him again (purposefully trying not to start looking already), Bodt leaned closer, something he really didn’t have to do, and Jean’s breath hitched in his throat. “Because, you see,” he lifted up the cover draft, “Your female counterpart here seems to have quite the expression.”

 

                After a brief moment of schooling his own expression, Jean reached for the final photo in his envelope, the one of him and Bodt, the one the camera made was thankfully kind enough to put in his own envelope, with the words under his breath, “So it would seem.”

 

                When he said that the cover art was obviously the toned down image of the photo, he was definitely right.

 

                Because there it was, staring up at him, how easy his openmouthed smile at Bodt was. How the corners of his eyes crinkled at what Bodt had said. How he ignored the camera and everything else to stare, _smile_ at Bodt, like there was nothing else in the world. How his head was tilted even farther than the woman’s just to look at his partner.

 

                (It kind of was “perfect”. It was a nice photo, after all. He was going to keep it.)

 

                Blinking down at it, he popped off the first thing that came to mind, not even looking up from the picture in his hands, “They must have gotten that look from somewhere else, since we’re doing just what the guy had asked for.”

 

                He didn’t have to look up and see the look of disbelief on Bodt’s face to know his lie wasn’t bought.

 

                After a few seconds of silence that Bodt was definitely trying to get him to look up at him with, Jean shoved the photo and the other sheets back into his envelope and closed it, before taking another sip of his much cooler coffee. Letting the taste sugar and caffeine smoothing down his tongue and throat calm him, he finally lifted his head, only to say, “So, about that delivery guy. What were you saying he had to do with the case again?”

 

                Though he was quiet for another handful of moments, Bodt did answer, keeping away from the topic of the photo like it was obvious Jean wanted him to, but he didn’t stop staring at him and keeping eye contact. He held his serious, intense, “feed me no bullshit” look, but Jean just returned it with his own that he used when he was listening as he continued to sip his coffee before it went too cold.

 

                Maybe he wouldn’t keep the picture. Not when Bodt had that look on his face like he was deciding on just how to he could find a way to get his hands on it.

 

                Maybe he could send it to his mom or something. She liked pictures, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if it's kinda garbage, my writing has started to delve into that area. I have no idea why, but it might be like this for a bit.
> 
> [my snk and writing](http://overmyfreckledbody.tumblr.com/) blog. Acharya's is [here](http://acharyadiako.tumblr.com/).
> 
> There's a whole little bunch of one shots if you want to go through the series. If you enjoyed, please leave a comment and or kudos!
> 
> or! you can support this on tumblr by liking/reblogging the fic [here.](http://overmyfreckledbody.tumblr.com/post/144922820073/sooooooo-i-wrote-actual-fluff-kinda-this-time-i)


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